Some panhandler tried to tell me that my not coughing up was “just not right.”

To the panhandler: I’ll fscking give you not right. I’ll fscking wipe my ass with yours, just you say that shit again you fscking asshole. I said that shit to you and I’ll say it again and just you wait, the next time it won’t be some frightened look in your eyes, the next time I will have you and you will whimper like a beaten dog.

To the people who are all bothered about bpd/ocd/bipolar emotional need responses: fsck you all. I don’t need you. I was fine before and I’ll be fine again and always, you can kiss my ass. I’ll be alone and beautiful and ready to glisten and you’ll be in your crowd.